2014-03-18 - Cutscene: A Particle Problem
Ant-Man is enjoying a quiet moment. Far too few of them hese days. A cup of tea and a good books does wonders for the nerves. In this case the book is 'My Friend the Ant' by Dr. Henry J. Pym. Hanks takes another swig of tea as he turns the pages of the coffee table edition, one of an ultra rare print run of ten. He has eight others. He's pretty sure Jan bought the other one but you can't always tell with Kickstarter. It might've been Hank or Ultron. He looks at a small moving speck on the counter and says, "No. You don't look fat. You look quite nice. A most formidable soldier. Everybody is a critic." Henry sighs and closes the book. Natasha breezes into medbay, apparently looking for Tony. That's apparent, because when she walks in, she is calling out for him. "Stark? Are you ready for--" she furrows her brow. "Sorry, Pym. I thought Tony might be down here. He's not in his lab." Ant-Man looks up from his book. Then his eyes latch onto Natasha Romanova and his says in a hushed voice, "Get in here and shut the door. I have to speak with you on a confidential matter. I expect you to keep a secret given your profession and wellllllll. Former Soviet. Can I have your help in an urgent matter?" He reaches for a book titled 'Effects of Gamma Ray Interferometry on Pym Particles in a Thierring Lense." Natasha pulls the door shut behind her, looking relatively intrigued. She's a spy. It happens. "What does the former Soviet Union have to do with anything you are working on?" she asks, moving into his office and leaning against the desk. She notes the book title, but it means little to her, so she doesn't say anything. Ant-Man frowns. "They were good at keeping secrets. The Deep Driling Project, Hitler's remains, Those big metal globes in SIberia. That should imply you are very good at keeping a secret." He opens the book and smirks, "Like Theirring did any work on particle containment. Heh heh heh." He riffs through the pages until he removes a Stacy's Catalogue! Natasha lifts a brow. "What is?" Ant-Man opens the catalogue to show a page of jewelry. Several of the rings are circled with various arcane notes added. "I considered making the stone myself but I'd need Bruce and Simon to help and there was a question of how angry Bruce would have to get ..." "For Janet?" Natasha isn't oblivious by any means, and the two's relationship-- as awkward as it is-- is obvious. "Thinking of asking her for marriage?" She muses. "That could be interesting, da... she would probably say yes. She is smitten." Natasha, helper. Also, not good at this kind of stuff. Ant-Man rubs his forehead a little exasperated. "Natasha. Focus. I want your help in picking a ring, style etc. Also what is more valuable in a stone aesthetically, color, size, clarity, flaws?" Natasha gives Hank a look. This is a woman who only wears jewelry when Janet specifies certain things to wear with certain dresses or else. "...I have no idea. It all looks much the same to me, when worn. If stealing it, or verifying its authenticity, I can see differences. If you want my opinion on things, ask me about guns. Or knives. I can have a solid opinion on blades. Or garrotes." Ant-Man looks disappointed. "Jan doesn't go in for guns, blades or garrotes. I will have to research further. I'd ask Jess but the two if them are thick as thieves. Perhaps Jen ..." He reaches a hand over the book and it quickly dwinles to a mere speck. The ant eats it. That should be it. Except it isn't for Natasha. Something untoward happens. "Jen would be a good choice, she may know of these things," Natasha agrees with a nod. She stretches a bit. "Mmph. I knew this child-thing was going to make my back sore," she comments wryly, "but I was not prepared for it so soon." Natasha glances back over the catalogue. "I'll let Jen know you need her opinion on something," she says, taking a step for the door. "I need to find Stark-- sorry to just run out on you, Hank." She waves, departing with her hand on her lower back. Unknown to either? A few... /errant/... particles... of some sort... cling to the woman. And they are already beginning to exert their power.